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The hum of Lucy’s apartment was soft and low—only the occasional clink of a spoon in a mug, the faint rustle of pages, the creak of the old couch as it shifted under weight. The kind of quiet that felt lived in. Warm. Familiar.
Natsu had been crashing here for months now—technically “just until the plumbing at his place was fixed,” though neither of them brought it up anymore. Happy was off for the weekend with Carla, some odd Sky Dragon get-together in the mountains. For the first time in ages, it was just the two of them.
Lucy padded out of the bathroom barefoot, hair piled into a messy knot, wearing one of those thin, too-short pajama sets that always made Natsu’s pulse do something stupid. Soft lavender fabric, practically translucent in the right lighting. He’d told himself he was used to it. He wasn’t.
She flopped beside him on the couch, thighs bare and warm against the rough fabric. Her tank rode up slightly as she reached for her tea on the side table, exposing a sliver of skin above her hip. He looked away—but it was too late. The heat had already started to stir low in his stomach.
“Ugh,” she groaned, stretching like a cat, arms overhead. “I’m sore from that mission. That damn trapdoor nearly broke my back.”
“You landed wrong,” he said, voice rougher than he meant. “You should’ve let me catch you.”
Lucy huffed a laugh and leaned back into the cushions beside him. “You were too busy setting the hallway on fire.”
“It was strategic fire,” he muttered, then risked a glance sideways. Her eyes were closed now, the steam from her tea curling around her face. Her lips parted just slightly.
Natsu swallowed. His body was too aware of hers. Of the warmth where their legs touched. Of the faint scent of her shampoo—vanilla and something else he couldn’t name but now associated with home.
Her voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re staring.”
Shit. “No I wasn’t.”
“Were too.”
Silence settled between them, thicker now. Lucy opened her eyes, gaze meeting his. There was something unreadable there. Soft. Searching. She didn’t look away.
He should’ve. But instead, Natsu leaned forward just slightly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched.
“What’re you doing?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully.
His fingers grazed her jaw, her cheek. She didn’t move. If anything, she leaned in.
When he kissed her, it was slow. Hesitant. Like testing a wire for heat. Her lips were soft, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. But then she tilted her head, let out the faintest sound against his mouth, and kissed him back.
They pulled apart, barely.
“This is dangerous,” Lucy said, her voice a little breathless.
“I know.” He didn’t move. His forehead almost touched hers.
Another second. Another brush of lips—hotter this time, lingering. She made a noise, small and wanting, and it nearly broke him.
But she pulled back first. “Tea’s getting cold.”
He blinked, dazed. “Yeah.”
They didn’t talk after that. She sipped her tea. He stared at the floor.
But her thigh stayed pressed against his, and neither of them moved away.
The apartment was dark except for the kitchen light—dim and golden, casting soft shadows on the floor. Lucy had gone to put her mug in the sink. Natsu was still on the couch, trying to pretend his skin wasn’t on fire from that kiss. From her .
He could still taste her. Still feel the soft gasp against his lips. Still hear the way her voice dropped to a whisper like she was afraid of what would happen if she said it too loud.
“This is dangerous.”
Yeah. It was.
He should leave. Go back to the couch. Go to bed. Anywhere else.
Instead, he stood.
When she turned from the counter and saw him there, she froze.
Neither of them said a word. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing just a little off. Her cheeks flushed not from embarrassment, but anticipation.
She made to pass him in the hallway, heading toward her bedroom. He didn’t think—he moved.
His hand shot out gently, fingers curling around her wrist. She stopped.
“Lucy.”
She looked up at him.
“I’m not gonna stop unless you tell me to.”
She didn’t. She just stepped in closer.
And then it exploded.
He kissed her like he’d been holding back for years. Because he had. His mouth found hers with wild heat, and she met him with equal force. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just two people crashing into something they’d both avoided for far too long.
Her hands fisted in his shirt. His fingers slipped under the hem of hers. She gasped as he pressed her back against the wall—gently, but firm enough that she could feel every inch of him flush to her body.
Clothes came off in desperate parts. His shirt over his head. Her tank slipping off her shoulders. Shorts pushed down hips. Her underwear dragged slowly, then faster, like he couldn’t bear the distance anymore.
“Wait,” she said, voice shaking. “Do you—do you want this or is this just—”
He kissed her again, hard enough to silence the question.
“I’ve wanted this,” he growled, low in her ear. “Since before I even knew what it meant to want something like this.”
Her eyes softened—and then darkened.
He lifted her easily, her thighs wrapping around his waist. She gasped, clinging to him as her back hit the hallway wall again. His mouth was on her neck, then her collarbone, trailing heat down her skin as her head dropped back.
She was wet. He could feel it against him, could feel the shudder that moved through her as he rocked forward just enough to make her whimper.
They didn’t make it to the bedroom.
Not that time.
Natsu shifted over her like something feral barely contained, but his hands were achingly gentle—one still palming her breast, the other braced beside her head, grounding him.
Lucy writhed beneath him, her body arching toward every touch like a flower tilting to the sun. She couldn’t remember ever being touched like this— looked at like this.
Not with hunger.
Not with awe.
His mouth returned to her breasts like he’d been starved for them. He kissed the upper curve first, soft and slow, then lowered to press his lips around the already-stiff peak. This time, he didn’t just lick and suck—he explored .
He lapped lazy circles around her nipple, trailing his tongue wide, wet, warm—until her head tipped back with a broken moan.
Then he closed his lips around her again and sucked , harder this time.
“Oh— Natsu —”
The sound shot straight through him.
“Say my name like that again,” he murmured into her skin, his voice molten.
She did. She said it between gasps and pleas and barely contained curses as he used his teeth—not biting, just grazing enough to make her back arch and her thighs press tight together.
Then he pulled back just slightly, licking a slow, teasing circle while his free hand slipped up, fingers pinching her other nipple—firm, then soft, then firm again, reading every sound she made like music.
Her body twisted, overwhelmed and desperate.
“Natsu, I—I can’t—”
“You can.” His lips ghosted over her skin. “You will.”
He shifted slightly, grabbing both her wrists in one hand and lifting them above her head. “Hold still,” he said, eyes dark. “Let me play.”
Lucy moaned at the command—soft, breathless—and didn’t fight it. Her arms stretched above her, pinned lightly by his grip, and the helplessness of it made her thighs clench.
“You like that,” he said, lips curving as he lowered back to her chest.
She didn’t deny it.
With her arms restrained, her breath fast and skin flushed, he gave her everything . His tongue moved from one breast to the other—lapping, sucking, circling each nipple until her hips bucked. His teeth grazed, his lips sealed, his tongue flicked fast, then slow, then again.
Her nipples were soaked and overstimulated and sensitive as hell, and it only made her more desperate.
“Please—” she gasped. “I’m gonna come just from this—”
“I know,” he said, dragging his tongue across the curve of her breast. “That’s the point.”
She came hard , hips lifting off the couch, nipples throbbing in his mouth and under his hand, breath shattering as she cried out his name and clenched tight around nothing , overwhelmed by sensation and the aching pleasure of being worshiped.
He didn’t stop right away.
He licked her through it, kissed both breasts slowly, gently, as her body trembled beneath him—never letting go of her wrists, his weight keeping her grounded as she came down.
Only when her eyes fluttered open again did he release her hands and press his forehead to hers.
“You okay?” he whispered, voice shaking slightly now.
She laughed, dizzy. “You broke me.”
“I’ll fix you.”
And then he kissed her again.
She was still gasping when his mouth left her chest—slowly, reverently. His hands stroked down the sides of her waist, tracing her curves like he was trying to memorize the feel of her. Her nipples were slick, flushed, aching from his mouth, and she was still trembling from the unexpected orgasm that hit her like a wave.
“You’re unreal,” he whispered, kissing the underside of her breast one last time before sliding lower. “Every part of you.”
Her thighs instinctively started to close when his fingers skimmed the inside, but he caught her gently.
“Let me,” he said, coaxing her legs apart again, kneeling between them like she was holy.
Lucy’s breath hitched. “You’ve never…”
“No,” he said, dragging his mouth along the inside of her knee. “But I want to. I’ve wanted to. For you.”
Her heart thudded at the words. There was no bravado in them. Just heat. Devotion. Want .
He started slow, like everything else tonight. He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, moving upward by painful degrees. Open-mouthed kisses, warm breath, the occasional scrape of his teeth.
When his mouth finally hovered over her, his fingers brushed along her folds—testing, gentle.
She was soaked. He groaned when he felt it.
“Fuck, Lucy…”
Her hips jerked slightly, aching for contact.
“Need it,” she whispered. “Need you .”
That was all he needed.
He parted her with his thumbs, breath shaky as he lowered his mouth. His tongue met her in a slow, upward drag, collecting every bit of her. She moaned— loudly —and Natsu growled in response, the sound vibrating against her.
“Gods— Natsu —”
He licked her again, more confidently this time, tracing slow, deliberate lines up her center, then circling her clit without touching it directly. Every time her hips rose, he’d pull back, teasing her, denying her just enough to make her beg.
“Please,” she gasped. “More—don’t stop—”
“You taste so fucking good,” he said, voice strained, dragging his tongue across her again. “I could do this all night.”
Then he sucked —firm and perfect, lips around her clit, tongue flicking, building rhythm. Her fingers tangled in his hair, yanking gently, and he groaned , sending another pulse of pleasure through her.
She came again, fast and hard, thighs trembling around his head, crying out his name as he kept going, licking her through the aftershocks.
She twitched under him, overly sensitive, but still not wanting him to stop. His hands gripped her thighs, mouth softening now, kisses gentle, soothing. He only pulled away when her hips finally stilled.
When he looked up, his lips were slick, his expression dazed.
“I need you,” he said, rough and breathless. “Now.”
Lucy reached down and pulled him up to her, kissing him with all the need in her bones.
“Then take me,” she whispered. “I’m yours.”
The room was quiet again. The kind of silence that only comes after something raw and real.
Lucy lay sprawled across the couch, body flushed, chest still rising and falling slowly. Natsu hovered beside her, one hand resting against her thigh, thumb brushing her skin in lazy circles.
“You okay?” he asked for the second time that night, his voice lower now. Steadier.
She nodded, smiling softly. “More than okay.”
He bent down and kissed her forehead. “Didn’t hurt?”
“No,” she said. “It felt… like everything I didn’t know I needed.”
That did something to him. He swallowed hard, then traced his fingers along the line of her collarbone. “I want to touch you again.”
Lucy turned her face to his, eyes half-lidded. “Then do it.”
This time, there was no rush. He picked her up effortlessly and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down gently on the sheets. The room glowed with moonlight through the window, soft shadows dancing across her skin.
She reached for him, but he caught her wrists—not hard, but firm. She froze, eyes searching his.
“I want you to let me take my time,” he said, voice a rasp. “Let me lead.”
Something in her fluttered. She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Hands above your head.”
Her breath caught. “What if I—”
“You won’t,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “But if you do, I’ll just kiss you harder.”
Lucy’s arms stretched above her, her fingers curling against the pillow. Her heart was hammering—not from fear, but anticipation. There was something grounding in his voice. Like she could finally stop trying to steer and just feel .
Natsu straddled her thighs, running his hands down her sides, then back up to her wrists.
“I’m gonna touch every part of you,” he said, eyes dark. “And you’re gonna let me.”
She nodded again, breathless.
His mouth found her breasts again, slower this time. Not to tease— to own . He licked and sucked each peak, his hand following his mouth, palming her fully while the other skimmed her ribcage, down her stomach.
When she moaned and shifted her hips up, he pulled back slightly.
“Stay still,” he said gently, holding her gaze.
She whimpered, but obeyed.
He moved lower—so slow it was maddening—his mouth brushing her hip, her thigh, until he was between her legs again. This time, he didn’t ask. He licked into her with unhurried pressure, hands gripping her thighs wide, holding her down as she trembled.
Her hands twitched above her head, wanting to reach, to grab.
“Keep them there,” he said, voice muffled against her. “You’re doing so good, Lu.”
She cried out when he sucked harder, her legs trembling. The praise hit something deeper than arousal. She felt safe . She felt wanted .
When he finally crawled back up her body, his cock heavy against her thigh, she was panting.
“Please,” she whispered. “I want you inside me.”
“Not yet.” His hand slid between her legs, two fingers pushing into her slowly, curling. “You’re still shaking. Let me feel you fall apart first.”
And she did.
He coaxed another orgasm from her with his fingers, kissing her chest as she came again, body tense and flushed, arms still above her head like he’d told her.
When she collapsed, boneless, eyes fluttering open, he kissed her—slow and deep—and finally, finally positioned himself between her thighs.
“Now I’m going to fuck you slow,” he said, his voice low and rough. “And you’re going to take all of it.”
She nodded, completely undone. “Yes. Natsu. Please.”
He slid into her in one long, slow thrust, and she swore she could feel everything —every inch of him, every intention.
And this time, there was no frenzy.
Only control.
Only them .
He slid into her slow—achingly so—like the moment itself meant something more than just pleasure.
Lucy exhaled softly, her legs wrapping around him as he settled fully inside her. Her body welcomed him easily, but it was the look in his eyes that unraveled her.
Not cocky.
Not hungry.
Just full .
Like being inside her was finally where he belonged.
She reached up to touch his face, and he caught her hand, lacing their fingers together and pressing it to the mattress beside her head.
“I don’t want to rush,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers. “I don’t want this to be a blur.”
“It’s not,” she whispered. “It’s you .”
Natsu pressed a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw, then her lips—each one slower than the last. He started to move, hips rocking into her with deep, measured strokes that made her toes curl. There was no frantic pace, no pushing. Just rhythm. Just intention .
Lucy gasped into his mouth, her hand tightening around his.
“You feel everything, don’t you?” he said, voice low.
She nodded, her eyes shining. “I always have. Even when you didn’t touch me like this.”
He groaned at that, burying his face in her neck. “I didn’t know what to do with it back then. I just knew I wanted to be close to you.”
“You are,” she whispered. “You always were.”
He moved deeper then, the pace dragging and steady, every stroke making her feel claimed in the most sacred way. Her body opened to him, every muscle trembling under the weight of how much she felt him—not just physically, but everywhere.
“You fit me,” she said, voice cracking.
His eyes met hers, wide and startled. Then soft.
“So do you,” he whispered. “It’s always been you.”
She cupped his cheek again, and this time he let her—leaning into her touch, still moving inside her in slow, rhythmic waves. Her other hand pressed to his back, feeling every ripple of muscle under his skin as his hips rolled against hers.
They held each other like a promise. Kissed like they might fall apart. Touched like they’d always been reaching, even before they knew it.
When she finally came again—softly, breath catching on his name—it wasn’t fireworks.
It was warmth.
It was home .
Natsu followed with a low moan, face buried in her neck, hips stuttering as he let go, his whole body shaking with the release. He didn’t pull out right away. Didn’t move at all. Just stayed there, pressed close, breathing hard, holding her like she was something fragile.
When he finally did shift, it was only to brush the hair from her face and press a kiss to her forehead.
“Still okay?” he asked softly, voice wrecked but tender.
Lucy nodded, smiling. “Better than okay.”
He laid beside her, pulling her into his chest. One of his hands trailed lazy circles over her back. The other found hers again and laced their fingers together once more.
They stayed like that—naked, spent, quiet.
“You staying here tonight?” she asked eventually, teasing.
He laughed, nose brushing hers. “Lucy. I live here.”
Her chest shook with a soft laugh, and she curled into him.
Yeah. He did.
And maybe now… it meant something more.
It was past midnight, but neither of them had moved much. The sheets tangled around their bare legs, the room cooled by open windows and the kind of night air that whispered softly through the curtains.
Natsu’s hand lazily trailed up and down Lucy’s spine, slow as a lullaby. She lay on her side, head tucked beneath his chin, their bodies still flushed from everything they’d done—and everything they’d finally admitted without saying it directly.
Her voice came out in a tired murmur. “You’re not sleeping.”
He smiled against her hair. “Didn’t really plan to.”
“Too much on your mind?”
“Too much of you on my mind.”
She let out a soft laugh, but it faded fast. “This… wasn’t just tonight for you, was it?”
“No,” he said immediately. “Wasn’t just tonight for you either.”
She didn’t answer right away. She just curled in tighter and laid her palm over his chest, right above his heart. It beat hard beneath her fingers—strong and steady.
“I don’t think I knew how much I wanted this,” she whispered. “Until I had it.”
“I think I always knew,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t know how to ask for it without screwing everything up.”
“You didn’t screw anything up.”
“You were always so far out of reach, Lu,” he murmured, nose brushing her temple. “Smart and soft and shining. I just followed you around like a damn dragon with no clue what to do with my fire.”
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel safe,” she whispered. “And seen.”
That cracked something deep in his chest. He turned her face up to his, kissed her slow—barely more than a breath.
They made love again—slower, lazier this time. Half-sleepy. All heart. A tangle of soft moans and messy hair and the kind of touches you don’t forget. He kissed her shoulder. Her hip. The curve of her spine. She traced patterns along his chest and whispered his name like a prayer.
By the time they finally fell asleep, she was tangled in his arms, their fingers still interlocked.
Morning came soft. Pale gold light spilled through the window. Birds chirped somewhere outside. Lucy stirred first, stretching slowly before burying her face in Natsu’s chest with a sleepy sound.
“You’re warm,” she mumbled.
“You say that like it’s new,” he teased, voice thick with sleep.
She peeked up at him with a sleepy smile. “You drooled on my pillow.”
“You drooled on me .”
They laughed quietly. It wasn’t awkward—it was easy . Like waking up with him there was the most natural thing in the world.
He brushed her hair off her face and kissed her forehead.
“So what now?” she asked.
“We keep doing this,” he said simply. “Living here. Being us. Just… closer.”
Her cheeks pinked, and she bit her lip. “Closer’s good.”
He rolled her beneath him in one lazy motion, grinning now. “Closer’s my favorite.”
“Breakfast first.”
“Sex is breakfast.”
She squeaked as he nuzzled her neck. “Natsu!”
He laughed, holding her tighter. “Kidding. Maybe.”
She mock-glared at him—but then she kissed him, and just like that, breakfast could wait.
Because this—this new version of them—felt too good to stop touching.
Too good to pause.
Too real to ever let go.